


A Light in the Dark

by junglesboys



Category: All Elite Wrestling, Professional Wrestling
Genre: American Sign Language, Chronic Illness, F/M, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Sign Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 09:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28468686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junglesboys/pseuds/junglesboys
Summary: Darby quietly opened the door as he entered the home that you shared, dropping his bags by the front door. He noticed the darkness of the house immediately. None of the lights were on; no blinds were open, and the house was entirely silent.He knew exactly what that meant.
Relationships: Darby Allin/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	A Light in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> All mentions of herbal magick come from my own experience with the craft!

Darby was always excited to come home to you when your health kept you from traveling with him. Recently, your chronic migraines had been coming on more often than they had in years, and you just didn’t think traveling with him in that state was going to be a good idea. Just the thought of being at Daily’s Place with all the lights and sounds surrounding you made your head spin. Granted, your head was spinning anyway. That’s why you were laying in bed with all of the lights off, all of the blinds drawn, and a cold cloth over your eyes. The migraine had seemed to come on as soon as you opened your eyes that morning. You didn’t even have the strength to leave the bed.

Darby quietly opened the door as he entered the home that you shared, dropping his bags by the front door. He noticed the darkness of the house immediately. None of the lights were on; no blinds were open, and the house was entirely silent.

He knew exactly what that meant.

He stopped in the kitchen to get you a glass of water, barely turning on the tap so that it didn’t make too much noise. He made his way carefully up the stairs, feeling grateful that he was feather-light on his feet. He stopped in the bathroom, figuring that you hadn’t been able to make it to get your medication if it was this quiet. He also grabbed the small container of oil that he’d made for you months before to help take the edge off while you were waiting for the medication to kick in. Darby may have had an interest in herbal magick, but he wasn’t one to believe it could be used in place of traditional medication, only as an aide alongside it. He had blended you a remedy of peppermint, valerian root, ginger, rosemary, lavender, and honeysuckle in olive oil not long after discovering that you had chronic migraines. You still remembered him sitting up until four in the morning researching the proper herbs and their preparation.

“Y/N?” Darby spoke, his voice barely above a whisper as he knelt gently beside the bed. He didn’t want to jostle you by sitting down on the bed with you. He sat down the items he brought with him as quietly as he could.

You let out a whimper as you turned slowly to face him, raising the washcloth from your eyes.

Darby shushed you quietly, raising a finger to his lips before moving to sign slowly. “We don’t have to speak, I know it’s hard for you to handle noise right now.”

You flashed Darby a gentle, weak smile, before signing “Thank you.” You had been using sign language during your migraine attacks for years, but also relied on it when you were overwhelmed. You relied more on sign supported English than you did on American Sign Language, but you wanted to take the time to learn the language eventually.

Darby leaned forward to press a soft kiss to your temple. 

It always surprised you how gentle he was with you, considering he wasn’t gentle with his own body in the slightest.

“I brought your meds, and the herbal aide to take the edge off,” Darby signed. “Can you sit up, do you think?”

You tried to sit up slowly, carefully, feeling your head spin as you did. Darby moved to sit on the edge of the bed, slipping an arm carefully around you. He knew that you would sometimes fall back against the bed if you were too weak to sit up. He reached over to the bedside table, taking your medication in his hand. You opened your mouth just enough to allow him to drop the pills inside, unsure that you could move to take the pills yourself. Darby raised the glass of water to your lips, coaxing you to take a few slow sips, though your stomach wanted to revolt at the thought of it. He carefully helped you lay back down, shushing you softly as you whimpered at the movement. As soon as you settled back against your pillow, Darby twisted the top off of the herbal oil, and you caught the scent of the mint, along with a slight hint of the lavender.

Darby dipped two fingers into the oil and rubbed a bit of it over onto the opposite hand before gently beginning to massage your temples.

You let out a soft, contented sound at his touch, catching bits of his tattoo in your peripheral vision. He was always so attentive with you. Hell, he had prepared all of this without you ever having to say a word.

He rubbed a bit of the oil down into your neck where the tension usually gathered, and a bit of it across your forehead before moving to wipe the substance from his hands with a tissue. “Do you need anything else?” he signed, before closing the oil bottle.

A blush rose in your cheeks as you hesitated to respond.

Darby cupped your cheek for a moment before moving to sign, “You know you can tell me anything, Y/N.”

You bit your lip for a moment, “I need to go to the bathroom, but I…” you signed, blush growing.

Darby folded the blanket back, and carefully scooped you up into his arm, bridal style. He tried his best not to jostle you as he did so. He carried you slowly to the master bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet since you were unsure if you could stand. “Just lift your hips a little, and I’ll help you with your pants,” he signed.

You had once been embarrassed by how much help you needed on your worst days, but Darby didn’t seem to care in the slightest. He had helped you shower, helped you dress, helped you feed yourself when you didn’t have the strength. He had been there through it all. You followed his instructions, and within a few minutes, Darby was tucking you back into bed, coming around to the other side of the bed to climb in with you. His arm rested around your waist, and his face pressed against your shoulder. He sifted slightly before pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

You caught the sign for ‘I love you’ out of the corner of your eye and whisper weakly, “I love you, Darby.” You started to doze off in his arms as the pain finally started to ease off. There wasn’t much in your life that you were certain of because of your health, but you were certain of one thing-- Darby wasn’t going anywhere.


End file.
